


Aardvark

by delusionalintrospection



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 11:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2226858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delusionalintrospection/pseuds/delusionalintrospection
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a quick little short I was commisioned to write for someone on Flight Rising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aardvark

It was no surprise, really, that it was Sir Charles (the third) who found it. No one was entirely sure where the big dragon's odd diet originated from, or how, in fact, he _survived_ off a diet that seemed to consist entirely of gold. (Quite a few dragons proclaimed he was lying; that it was not, in fact, possible.) But he was the one that stumbled upon it, in his never-ending search for anything else that glittered or shone. 

 

His cry of surprise was what brought Mudd and Watson running.

 

“What on _earth_ is _that_?” 

 

“I _believe_ it's a gigantic insect!” Watson exclaimed, arching one eyebrow. (Watson...did not see very well. No one really had the heart to tell him just how wrong he was most of the time...or say anything when he walked into rocks.) 

 

“Watson,” Sir Charles (the third) grumbled now, trying very hard not to snap. He'd been surprised, and he didn't care for surprises. “it most certainly is not.” He arched a brow. It was the one with the monocle;it made the thing slip nearly off his face. His hat was already askew by his being startled, and so in general he looked quite disheveled.

 

“Then what _is_ it?” Mudd leaned closer, peering at the small, round animal that had curled into a defensive huddle and glared balefully up at them.

 

It let out a hissing sort of noise, and all three large, terrible dragons leapt backwards in fear. Sir Charles (the third) had never been very graceful, and tumbled over with a cry over surprise into the water of the small pond they were near; Watson took a few feet to the air, and Mudd, too- but coatls were rather ungainly fliers, and Mudd even more so then most. He collided with Watson (or perhaps Watson collided with him, with how horrible his vision was) and the pair fell arse-over-snout to the ground.

 

Once they had untangled themselves, and Sir Charles (the- oh, you get the idea) had hauled himself up out of the water, they realized that the small, round creature used the distraction to _run like hell_. Well, Sir Charles and Mudd had- Watson almost didn't see it scurrying away until Mudd pointed it out to him.

 

For all that his vision was rather poor, Watson was the fastest of them, and he somehow managed to take to air and block off the poor thing's escape, nearly landing on it in the process.

 

“No, no,” He informed it, “you don't get to go anywhere until we find out what you are.”

 

“Maybe one of the humans would know?” Watson suggested, as he and Sir Charles (….the third....) wandered up from behind. “I've never seen _anything_ that looked quite like that.”

 

“Nothing so mindless, either.” Sir Charles (the blah blah blah) said, adjusting his hat rather awkwardly. “It's not a familiar, for certain.”

 

“No, not a familiar. Are you positive it's not a giant insect?”  
  
“ _Watson_.”

 

“What?!”

 

 

Sir Charles (you know what goes here) scowled, then sighed, shaking his head.

 

“Take it- gently- and we'll bring it to the human keeper.” He grumbled, because he disliked very much having to refer to the human as anything more or less then a strange little two-legged annoyance. But the human fed them and cared for them, and as such deserved at least some modecome of respect.

 

Besides, it might know what the strange animal was.

 

It took them a disturbingly long time to get to the den again. Mudd was the only one willing to carry the odd little creature, and it did not appreciate being man-handled at all. (Dragon handled, rather.) Still, eventually they _did_ make it back, and there they found the keeper, sorting through the day's gatherings.

 

The three of them clambered for attention, causing the keeper to yelp and laugh at the same time, especially when Watson got a little _too_ close. (He never meant to, but the sight thing, you understand.)

 

“Boys, _boys_!” The keeper yelped, shaking their head, taking the poor, frightened little creature from Mudd. “It's an _aardvark_. And you're scaring it half to death.”

 

“What on earth is an _aardvark?”_ Sir Charles (the third) asked, head tilted, leaning in to see the little thing better. (He knocked heads with Watson.)

 

“ _This_ is an aardvark.” The keeper held it out and up, then let the poor thing go, watching it run for freedom. “Honestly, boys. Get back in the den and wait for dinner.”

 

“...Dinner is not the aardvark, is it?” Mudd asked, and got whapped lightly.

 

“ _No_ , dinner is not the aardvark.”

 

It was not. However, apparently the aardvark was very confused or deeply in pity for the dragons that had found it, because it never left the lair.

 

They named it W.M.C.

 

 

(…..the third.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
